


Stress Release

by badtothebinding



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gap Filler, M/M, Oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 10:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1466875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badtothebinding/pseuds/badtothebinding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gap filler for 2x06 Can I Have a Mother. Mickey helps Ian release some of his anger during his fight with Lip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stress Release

Ian was still crouched on the floor sweeping up bits of watermelon when Mickey showed up at the Kash and Grab later. His foot slipped on a tomato that had been smashed on the floor and when he looked up he found another had been crushed on the glass of a freezer door.

 

“The fuck,Gallagher? You throw a fit or somethin’?” Mickey grunted. Ian didn’t respond, still sweeping, and Mickey took a moment to appreciate the way Ian’s jeans stretched across his firm ass. He gave quick glance around the store before giving a low whistle.

 

Ian looked up at him with an annoyed smirk. Mickey flashed him a grin as he went behind the counter to grab his security vest, shrugging it on as Ian finished cleaning the floor.

 

“Not me. Lip.” Ian grunted, tossing melon bits in the trash bin next to him and grabbing some paper towel from the roll next to him.

 

“Oh yeah,” Mickey tried feigning disinterest, hopping up onto the counter to watch as Ian sopped up the juice on the floor. He finished, tossing the soiled paper towels into the trash as he straightened and turned to face Mickey.

 

“You could help, y’know.” He grumbled as he moved over to pick up the tomatoes as well.

 

“Not my shithead brother,” Mickey scoffed.

 

Ian gritted his teeth, throwing the last of the paper towels away, shoulders tense and fists clenched. Mickey just watched as Ian finally turned around, throwing his hands in the air angrily.

 

“Fuckin’ Lip. He doesn’t even know how good he’s got it and he’s throwing it all away. Douchebag’s a fuckin’ genius, doesn’t even have to try, while I can barely even read those fuckin’ chemistry textbooks. He could go to any college he wants, shit, for free no less, if he could be bothered to fuckin’ graduate.” Ian ranted, pacing the floor in front of the counter.

 

“He could do anything, go anywhere, but he’d rather play ghetto house on the prarie with that skank Karen and end up working at Best Buy and contracting syphilis.” Ian stopped short, slamming his fists on the counter beside Mickey, who was unsually still. He rubbed a thumb against his lips as his eyes locked on the bulging veins running down Ian’s arms.

 

Ian stilled, looking down at his clenching fists.

 

“He could even get into West Point, if he wanted.” Ian said quietly. That got Mickey’s attention. His eyes snapped from Ian’s defined chest up to his set jaw and finally settled on his green eyes.  

 

“The fuck does that mean?” Mickey asked.

 

Ian sighed, deflating. He looked up into Mickey’s eyes.

 

“A general showed up at the house today looking for Lip. He called him a ‘perfect candidate’ for West Point. Didn’t even look twice at me.” Ian bit his lip and looked back down, avoiding Mickey’s gaze again as his shoulders shook with repressed rage.

 

Mickey broke the tense silence, jumping off the counter.

 

“Jesus Christ, Gallagher. Is this why you’ve been walking around with a stick up your ass lately? Cuz y’know, I could help you take care of that.” Mickey smirked, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Ian glared back.

 

“Fuck you, Mick.”

 

Mickey’s grin widened.

 

“That’s kind of the idea, Firecrotch.” Mickey called back as he turned around and sauntered to the freezer door. Ian smirked, locking the front door and putting up the “Back in 5 Minutes” sign.

  
“Yo,” came a yell from the back. “You comin’ or what?”


End file.
